


Repercussions

by miscellaneous meilleur (meilleur)



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: (that's a tag?), Author Is Sleep Deprived, Character Study, Dream Smp, Multi, Polyamory, Soft Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Tales From The SMP, Time Travel, i have so much to say on this topic, time traveller!karl jacobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:22:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28976592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meilleur/pseuds/miscellaneous%20meilleur
Summary: The bed was cold, the air was cold, and the void in Karl grew. It was practically consuming him, threatening to swallow Karl whole and leave him numb. It hurt.Time Traveller!Karl Jacobs wakes up to time traveller pains.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity/Karl Jacobs, Alexis | Quackity/Karl Jacobs/Sapnap, Karl Jacobs & Sapnap, Karl Jacobs/Sapnap
Comments: 8
Kudos: 501





	Repercussions

**Author's Note:**

> I have so much to say about this. Karl Jacobs has done it again and turned something mildly interesting and sculpted it into a beautiful character trait. I spent the last few hours scrolling through fan theories. It got me inspired.
> 
> Enjoy this short little drabble!

Nowadays, it wasn’t uncommon for Karl to wake up confused. Confused, disoriented, and longing for something he couldn’t identify. It was easier when he woke up with Sapnap or Quackity, wherein he’d simply curl against them and wait for it to pass. Sometimes he’d let the sun’s rays act as a hug. Those were the ideal days, those were the days when it would all hurt less, and he’d be reminded of it all, and he wouldn’t feel a subconscious worry to seek out something he couldn’t remember.

Today was not one of those days. Today he woke up alone, underneath a gloomy sky, and the dizzying effects evolved into a pounding headache. He rolled over with a groan, clutching a pillow to his body and squeezing it as hard as he could. The bed was cold, the air was cold, and the void in Karl grew. It was practically consuming him, threatening to swallow Karl whole and leave him numb. It hurt.

He forced himself to stand up, to pull on a sweater and trudge across the wood floor to the kitchen. The sound of the running faucet reverberated off the walls and amplified in his ears. He cringed, waiting impatiently for his cup to fill before giving up and stopping halfway. The water was normal, he knew, but at the moment it was torture. Colder than the room, than the floor under his feet, and seven seconds later he felt it spread through his body and curl around the last remaining areas of heat he had left. Karl tugged the sweater closer to his body in vain; the cold was inside him now, and the all-consuming void continued.

These symptoms weren’t uncommon, he reminded himself. This was his price to pay for travelling back and forth through the timeline.

 _And it would all be worth it_.

His thoughts were interrupted by an obnoxious knock at the door. He sighed and clutched his head in pain, squinting as the bright grey of the sky glared at him through the uncovered windows.

“Hello?” Karl swung the door open, and was greeted with the sight of a familiar face. “Oh, Robin, good morning.”

The boy’s large eyes narrowed, his head cocked to the side. Confusion. “Who’s Robin?”

Karl opened his mouth to respond. Closed it. Opened it again, taking in the sight before him. He doesn’t remember Robin wearing netherite, or having large burn marks marring his face and arms…

He realises, with increasing horror, that the boy before him isn’t Robin, but Tubbo. Tubbo, who doesn’t know about Karl’s ability, doesn’t know about his ancestors, and certainly shouldn’t be privy to the information.

“Sorry,” Karl corrects, “Tubbo. I meant Tubbo. I was, uhm, talking to someone the other day. He looks a lot like you.”

There’s many people who live in the Dream SMP. Men, women, adults, children. It’s not unlikely that there’s another blond haired, short statured boy with large eyes. Tubbo understands this, and presses no further.

The emptiness in Karl is starting to fade the longer he’s aware, the longer he remembers. But lying never sat well with him, and the void is replaced by nausea. Guilt.

“Understandable,” Tubbo smiles, and Karl reads his eyes to see that he is truly none-the-wiser. “That reminds me: I saw someone at Targay last week that looked _exactly_ like…” And Karl fades off, lulled into exhausted hypnosis by Tubbo’s excited boyish charm, his previous motive for knocking on Karl’s door early in the morning likely long forgotten. It’s fine, Karl can lean against the door frame and listen — he’s far too tired to engage in any real conversation, despite his persona he’s working hard to keep up.

“...so I told Tommy, ‘The bees need a certain routine and if you can’t keep that up—’” He stops, watches Karl’s unfocused eyes, and changes course. “Sorry, I went off on a tangent for a bit there. I came here to give you this. Tommy’s making me hand them out to our friends.”

A pamphlet is placed in Karl’s unfeeling hand, and he forces himself to read the words through blurry eyes.

“It’s for his hotel. Advertising stuff.” He’s thankful that Tubbo seems to understand something of his situation. Tubbo gives a friendly wave before bouncing down the steps and back onto the main path.

The paper is left on the nearest end table. Karl goes to grab his winter coat and pauses as soon as his fingers touch the heavy wool.

His coat is white. It’s not supposed to be white. His coat was a stark blue, a lovely contrast against the white snow that Quackity always liked to comment on. A cool balance to Sapnap’s fiery personality. He took pride in the fact that he dyed the wool himself, spending hours soaking it in the stain and left with a week of blue tinted hands.

This coat was white. What was it supposed to symbolise?

His headache returned tenfold, and he cried out in pain, sliding against the wall and curling up on the floor. He knew what this meant. He knew that this was a consequence — minor, of course, but a consequence — and that it would only get worse from here.

 _It needs to be done. You can do this. Do this for them_.

The pain subsides, and he shakily gets to his feet. The world is swaying a bit, and he needs to blink several times before everything comes back into focus, but eventually he’s well enough to put on the white winter coat and walk outside. There’s no telling where Quackity will be, but Sapnap tends to linger in specific spots. He’s not the most social, and one place in particular is visited most.

The ground beneath Karl’s feet shifts as he reaches his destination and rubs at a hidden redstone contraption buried in the dirt. The grass opens wide enough for a single person to drop into, and Karl does with a moment of hesitation. The blackstone floor greets him kindly, and he sighs in content.

“Karl?” Sapnap’s voice echoed from the bottom of the grandiose staircase. Karl feels a weight lift at the sound of his voice. Sapnap’s always had a calm about him when there wasn’t war involved. His voice, his affection, his energy as a whole. A steady fire, burning low and bright. To fan them is to fan the flames of war.

He half-walk half-stumbles down the stone steps, following the ambient lighting of the torches and pulsing lava encased behind tinted glass. Sapnap emerges from the potions room, covered in blaze powder dust and smelling of fermented ingredients. He just about cries at the familiarity, noting nothing out of place with his character.

“Karl, you okay?” Sapnap reaches him and circles Karl in a hug that he will swear to be the best given in all the land. “You’re cold.”

“I don’t feel good,” Karl states, cutting right to the chase. Sapnap will see through his lies anyway. Sapnap can sense Karl’s heat, Karl’s weak pulse.

“Sorry you had to wake up alone.” He hugs tighter, and Karl feels safe. The headache is relieving, the void is consuming itself. _Just a little longer_.

“It’s fine. I’m fine now.” Karl looks up from his place tucked against Sapnap’s neck, and brown eyes meet with a white blindfold. “I missed you, is all.”

If Karl can last for a little while longer, everything will be fine. He’ll get to wake up and be free of these annoying warp pains, of the nausea, of the emptiness. He can go back to singing light-hearted karaoke with Sapnap, can joke around with Quackity, can return to participating in things without the constant fear of messing up the timeline. 

He finds the strength to return the hug, and holds onto Sapnap as tight as he can. He wants to stay like this, held safely in the arms of his lover, free of the stress he hides from his friends, living for the moment as it happens without fretting over what it leads to. He’ll do whatever it takes to return to this; This state of bliss, of tranquility.

It’s worth it. It’ll all be worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm planning a big fic project for the SMP. This will definitely be apart of it.


End file.
